The auditory precede; it rises and recedes.
Light in its wake, quickly followed by the ache.
Laughter and tears aplenty, anger and fears and envy.
The hands slow down, but in the tide it drowns.
Darker grows the head and privates and dread,
While the tide washes on with cosmic inconsideration.
Mountains, hills, and valleys; numbers upon numbers to tally.
Dreams and inspirations, falls and consternations;
The rulers of a miracle, a design from the pinnacle.
The auditory recedes; it fades away discreet.
In its wake, darkness, with no strength to convalesce.
Black is aplenty, the colour wheel on empty.
The hands rewind and the blinding rainbow reminds
Of what is, that is, the nothingness of which the now consists.
Fingers to fist becomes and approaching fast is mist.
The crescent hangs upside-down.
Silence and blindness surrounds.
Sickness enters the crown.
Despair abounds.
     (Chaos)
Thunderstorm!
Half-awake, unstartled and unsure.
Red is the apple but surely not the cure.
The future is a mirage, it will the bracing heart sabotage.
Red is the cloth but storm stirs the froth.
Heaven pulls, and for a second there was freedom.
Oh, the sensation! To be unbounded and out of the deep darkness;
Few passions could ever compare.
Above the black clouds is the rainbow of the now and the light is calm.
The winds on high reminds the peril of the elevation.
Floating lightly and imperfect in flight, so begins a transference.
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